depression

cacophonous words trip upon each other in my mind. I am lost in my own body

So I slide into this dark box of mine, hidden deep inside.

Just to rest. Just for a quiet moment of silence.

It’s quiet in here. Deep down in the dark. It’s not so bad. I can release myself to this quiet and be still. Nothing enters or leaves. It’s been a long time since I entered this place. This deep, dark, quiet place.

But it is never truly quiet. My thoughts, like dust floating in sun beams, drift down making light, fluffy, muffled, jangling noises. And the ruminations settle around me.

These musings of mine ease their way next to me. Some of these thoughts want to pull me into a darker place. A place where leaving the box becomes difficult. A place where I bury me beyond existence.

I push the clamour aside and wait for the other reflections to settle on top of the debris. And they shift to the top. Reminding me that staying in the box is not as safe as facing the crashing tsunami waves of my life.

My box shimmers and white light drifts all around me like falling snow. Each light flake touches my skin, bringing delight. Memories of joy in existing pull me up to the top.

I decide it is time to leave my quiet dark box. As I come forward, the waves of life crash down upon me, and I am driven down.